The Pain in the Question
by bruninhagalle
Summary: The question had been simple enough. Her eleven year old daughter wanted to know if she could go to a birthday party on a karaoke place named 'Checker Box' and the moment Christine said those two words, she felt her whole world metaphorically stopping.


**A/N: **Hi, guys! This story has probably been written a thousand times by now but I still felt the need to do it. So bear with me, will ya? I feel that the whole Booth dying in season 3 storyline was rushed and incomplete and I've always wanted to do something about it. So here we are. Many thanks to **thaischrist** and **Sharon De Wolf** for beta reading this fanfic. I love you, girls!

I hope you like it!

**Bones does not belong to me otherwise it would still be on Mondays.**

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**The Pain in the Question**

The question had been simple enough. Her eleven year old daughter wanted to know if she could go to a birthday party on a karaoke place named 'Checker Box' and the moment Christine said those two words, she felt her whole world metaphorically stopping.

Her rational side was telling her to just say yes. What happened there took place more than a decade ago and it was irrational to react that way, as if her stomach had dropped to the floor and a fist was clutching her heart.

Her irrational side was urging her to say no. No, Christine, you can't go. Your dad died there, right before my eyes. So no. Please, don't go.

And as these thoughts swirled across her mind, Booth answered their daughter, letting her know she had their permission to go. Christine beamed. Just like her mother, she loved singing and was quite good at it.

Different from his excited daughter, Booth did not fail to notice the way Brennan had fallen silent, her eyes staring into nothing, her face pale. He knew what had triggered it and was not surprised when his wife excused herself a moment later, announcing she was tired and ready to sleep.

He followed after her only minutes later and when he entered their bedroom, found her coming out of the bathroom in her sleeping clothes which consisted of one of his FBI t-shirts and a flannel short, her expression still troubled.

"Are you okay, Bones?"

"I'm fine, Booth. Why wouldn't I be?"

She said more defensively than intended and almost winced, knowing he would pick on her tone and wouldn't let it go.

"Checker Box."

Booth said simply, as if stating a fact and now she did wince, her arms crossing in front of her chest and her eyes finally meeting this. She found him near the door, while she stood just outside their bathroom.

"What about it?"

He would laugh at her deliberate stubbornness if her eyes weren't filled with so much pain. He went all the way to her instead, stopping only inches away. She wouldn't hide from him. Not anymore. Not when this very much old subject still clearly bothered her.

"Don't play dumb with me, Bones."

"I'm a too highly intelligent person to ever play dumb, Booth."

She tried to walk past him but a hand on her arm stopped her. He just looked at her, like he always did when she wasn't fooling him and wasn't about to succeed so she'd better just talk it out already.

Brennan took a deep breath. She knew this conversation was ridiculously overdue and she was not sure if it was all still worth it. Some things are better left unsaid. Wasn't it what she said many years ago to this same man?

"It's truly nothing, Booth, I just,"

"The second Christine mentioned that place, you went pale, Bones. You never just go pale. So this is not nothing." - It sounded harsher than he expected. – "Please, Bones, just tell me why you reacted the way you did." – Softer now, one hand caressing the arm he was previously gripping.

For the second time that night, she fell silent and after a while, he was about to give up, when her weak voice had him worrying about her all over again.

"You died in that place, Booth." – He felt her shiver and was going to hold her to him but her hands on his bare chest froze him in place. Her left hand traced a light pattern just above the scar from a bullet meant for her. – "You died." – Her eyes were following her fingers.

"But I didn't, Bones. I came back." – He used one hand to cup her chin and raise her head, her beautiful blue eyes filled with unleashed tears.

"Two weeks, Booth. For two weeks you were never coming back. You just left. Like everybody else."

He felt as if she had just punched him in the face, hating himself for the millionth time for not having broken the damn protocol and informed her in person he was very much alive.

"I thought you had compartmentalized my death, Bones. I mean, you weren't even crying at my funeral." – He felt the familiar anger whenever he remembered how well she had looked that day, as if she hadn't lost her partner and a close friend (or that was what he thought he was at the time). When Zach turned out to be Gormogon's apprentice and he witnessed how pretty badly shaken up his partner had been, he decided to move on and never confront her on her behavior. Not until now.

She stared at him, mouth open, not knowing from where to begin. Part of her regretted all the things she kept from telling him back then, because she was afraid of showing how much she needed him, and now, she realized he had spent all these years believing his death years ago meant nothing to her when in fact, it meant everything.

"I could never compartmentalize your death, Booth." – She looked away, almost embarrassed to admit what she was about to even after all the things said and done between them up to that point. – "I didn't cry at your funeral because I…"

She saw the curiosity deep in his eyes, mixed with a vulnerability of someone who trusted the other to give them the right answer.

"Because I couldn't, Booth. For the first time in my life, I realized there was something worse than losing my parents and it was losing you. Since my parents left, I promised myself I would never depend on another person. It had clearly proven to me it would eventually lead to pain and suffer."

He nodded, showing her he was following, afraid that if he spoke, he'd break the moment. The confession. Something he had no idea he was longing so desperately to hear.

"But then you were gone and I felt as if… as if my heart had been ripped out my chest, even though that's not scientifically possible. It still felt like that. It hurt, Booth. It hurt so _damn_ much." – More tears streamed down her face and she watched amazed as his eyes filled with tears as well.

"I cried myself to sleep every night, telling myself it was allowed. It was dark. Nobody would know and in the morning, I'd pretend I'd never done that. But waking up was the worst, Booth. I would open my eyes and for a split second, everything was exactly as it had always been: my alarm was beeping, the daylight was slipping past through the blinds, I was breathing and then the reality would come crashing down on me because you weren't. You weren't breathing, Booth." – She fisted his shirt, as if to assure herself he was there and wasn't going anywhere.

"The night you died, after, after," – She breathed in. Out. Booth opened his mouth to ask her to stop. It was enough. He never meant to upset her like this but she silenced him with her index finger on his mouth. – "After the doctor told us you hadn't made it," – She shivered again. That memory was so vivid it was as if she was in that hospital again. The doctor saying the words she couldn't bear to hear: 'I'm sorry but he couldn't make it.' The room going eerily quiet as if everybody had stopped breathing when ironically, her partner was the one not breathing anymore. Never again.

"When I left the hospital, ignoring what everyone was saying about how I shouldn't be alone, I went straight to your apartment. That's how I knew about the key under the fake rock. I found it there. I let myself in. I wandered through your rooms, touched so many things that were utterly Boothy." – She allowed herself a small smile at that particular memory and he wondered what things she had encountered.

"I reached your bedroom and I found the tie you were wearing just earlier, while we finished the case. Next to it was your cocky belt buckle and those things were my undoing. I collapsed on your bed and I cried like I've never done before in my life, not even when my family left me. Because I knew I'd betrayed myself: I'd let you in. I'd become dependant on you. I needed you but you weren't there."

Booth used his fingers to sweep away the trails her tears were leaving behind, his heart breaking with every word she was saying. He had no idea how much she had suffered and felt stupid because of course she would have. After her vows, he'd learned she loved him for almost as long as he had loved her.

"After that night I told myself I couldn't live that way and then I chose to be angry. Angry with you for leaving me just like everybody else. Angry with myself for making the terrible mistake of trusting you so much. Angry with Pam Nunan for making you sacrifice yourself for me. And then I'd be angry with you again, for being stupid enough to take a bullet that was meant for me. People noticed my mood, how cold and distant I was and it prevented them from seeing how terribly broken I was inside. What you saw at your funeral was exactly what I let you see. During the two weeks I believed you were dead, I built those walls again."

"And I smashed right into them when I came back."

He finished for her and she just nodded, suddenly exhausted. Booth pulled her to him, holding her so tight he was expecting her to complain. But she didn't, reciprocating the gesture with the same intensity.

"I'm so, so sorry, Bones." – He whispered into her ear. – "I should have called you. You were my partner. I shouldn't have cared about the damn protocol."

"It's okay, Booth. I just wanted you to know you mattered." – She murmured in his chest. – "You always mattered. The lack of tears on my face didn't mean I wasn't suffering from your death or that I had compartmentalized it."

"I know it now, Bones." – He kissed her neck and felt her snuggling impossibly closer to him.

"I'm glad you didn't die, Booth." – Brennan stepped back to look at him again. – "I'm glad we had another chance to go on with our lives and even if it took us too long, everything was worth it. Being here right now, in our house, with you as my partner, my husband and the father of my child was worth everything."

He smiled his slow-soon-to-be-a-fully-bright-Seeley-Booth smile and kissed her hard on the mouth, drawing a moan out of her.

"Me too, Bones. Me too."

And then he kissed her again, leading her to bed to show her how glad he was he had survived that day. How lucky he was to have her as his partner, wife and mother of his child. His center. And only because he needed her as much as she needed him, he would always hold.


End file.
